


Well Okay Then

by Kimnd



Series: 'Pete gets trapped' timeline [2]
Category: Bully (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Time Loop, Break Up, Condoms, F/M, First Kiss, Gary continues to be in a glass case of emotions, Gary is in a glass case of emotions, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, In that Gary has literally never done any of this, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV First Person, Public Display of Affection, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Experimentation, Time Loop, Zoe is articulate as fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 11:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9321332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimnd/pseuds/Kimnd
Summary: Pete's just happy to finally be back in the regular time stream again--hanging out with friends (that he now has), eating junk food, playing video games, going to the beach; you know, normal teenage stuff.Gary, on the other hand, is not so inclined to peaceful social interaction.(There was a technical glitch with the first version of this, so I'm posting it again to see if this works better)The ending of this story has not actually been figured out in its entirety, so do not count on consistent updates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read Groundhog Pete this will probably be rather confusing.

I didn’t really notice anything until summer. Petey had been excited about _everything_ summer, since it’d been fifteen years since his last one; he would show up to everything in a polo shirt and shorts, rarely wearing anything other than sandals. It was a particularly hot day, and Jimmy, Pete, Jimmy’s new punk ladyfriend and I were all loitering around in some place in New Coventry that Jimmy inexplicably owned the key to. Suddenly, Petey piped up and suggested we go to the beach for the first time. The other two shrugged in lukewarm acceptance, but I pointed out, in my tactful way, that he was going to make everybody on the beach run screaming from the vicinity with that outfit. He just laughed. “Pft, yeah! They’ll never return to mortal Femme Boys again.” And so we’d all found ourselves at the beach. I hadn’t brought a swimming costume; it always seemed like a pointlessly dangerous activity to me. Why do something that puts your life in so much danger? Of course, Petey and Jimmy had taken to the water as soon as we’d gotten there. Zoe wanted to sit on the beach, which sounded about as much fun to me as having sand get in my clothes, i.e. not fun, so I sat on the pier, picking a spot near where the two took turns flinging themselves into the water. At first I read, but eventually I stopped trying to parse _Slaughterhouse-Five_ and watched the two of them.

Jimmy was clearly playing for the audience (it’s not like we were the only teenagers who’d decided to take a dip), trying to make the showiest splashes or the flashiest mid-air maneuvers. I rolled my eyes; typical moron. Petey, at first glance, seemed like he was doing the same thing—trying to rack up the complexity of his diving over time. But as I studied him, his expression was very different than that of our friend’s. Rather than checking to see who was watching, Pete was just enjoying what he was doing for its own sake. He didn’t care if anybody else was watching. In fact, it felt a little… odd, focusing on him when he so clearly didn’t know I was looking. As if I was viewing something private.

After the hundred-millionth time, Petey hauled himself back up onto the pier and made his way over to me, collapsing next to me on the bench as he breathed heavily. “Phew! Man that’s… pretty exhausting… haaa…” But he was grinning even as he closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he panted. For some reason, my eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of his chest—how his muscles moved, changing the way the sunlight lit up the water still beaded on his skin. His nipples were erect, too. I frowned; why was I noticing this? He shifted suddenly, turning so his back was to me and his legs were stretched out on the bench. “Hey,” his head turned toward me as I quickly snapped my gaze to his face “do you mind if I lie down?” His face was a little flushed from all the exercise. I shrugged, leaning back on my hands myself as I looked out and watched what looked like the entire population of the town as they tried to drown themselves. There was a pause before he laughed a little awkwardly. “…I _think_ that means no?” He then put his hands behind his head, lying down with an air of supreme relaxation. I flicked my gaze back to his chest. It was weirdly mesmerizing, watching him breathe. Eventually my eyes were drawn to a bead of water as it rolled down his side, rolling over his ribs… I swallowed thickly before nearly jumping out of my skin when he spoke again, this time saying “You’re being pretty quiet.” If he looked at me when he said that I didn’t know, because I had started staring intently at… something. But it wasn’t Petey’s fucking bone structure, whatever it was.

I shrugged before adding “Maybe I don’t have anything to say.” True enough, I suppose.

Petey snickered, and my eyes were drawn back to his expression. He was smiling, but his eyes were closed. “Yeah right, you _always_ have something to say!” I snorted; how very true in his case. It was rather… odd, how well Femme Boy knew me. He acted like he’d known me for years, rather than months. Which he had, I suppose; time loops and all. But it made me feel like I didn’t even know him by comparison. I’d considered him a friend even before the start of the school year, but I hadn’t seen him in years.

“Only because there’s nobody else worth talking to, Petey.” I resumed examining his body, sweeping my gaze to follow the small line of hair that started at his belly-button before dipping into his trunks. I could hardly tear my eyes away. What the hell was I _doing_? To my horror, his eyes opened. I snapped my gaze to his face again—maybe he wouldn’t notice anything?

He frowned at me, saying “What do you mean, there’s nobody else worth talking to?”

I rolled my eyes at that; really, wasn’t it obvious? “It means exactly what it means, Petey—you and Jimmy are pretty much the only people I can stand to be around.” I snorted before adding “And in Jimmy’s case, that’s mostly because he makes for a handy GPS.” I smirked to myself, remembering how I’d completely underestimated the moron’s usefulness back at the beginning of the year. Sure, he isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, but he’s freakishly good at navigation and his skill in Chemistry isn’t half bad—plus, his ability to punch things had _not_ been oversold.

To my surprise, Petey got up and looked me full in the face. “Do you really not like _anybody_ else, Gary?” Sheesh, was it really so surprising?

Laughing, I replied “Come _on_ , Femme Boy—you’re the one who’s put up with us for a freaking decade. If anything, the conclusion to draw here is that _you_ like us an unhealthy amount!”

He smiled a little sadly, shrugging as he laid back down. “Maybe you’re right about that.” I frowned. He wasn’t supposed to agree with me so readily like that. Angry yelling as the Preps and Greasers got into a massive splash-fight could be heard in the background as he resumed relaxing.

Studying his torso again, I found it mostly dry—the day _was_ quite hot. But for some reason, I wanted to see the sunlight glinting off his wet skin again. My eyes landed on a birthmark a little to the right of his belly button; what would that brown patch of skin taste like? I blinked rapidly as that question entered my head. What the fuck? Did… was I seriously _lusting_ after Peter fucking Kowalski just now? I dismissed that thought; of course not. No fucking way. Considering what I’d said earlier I asked “Hey Petey, why _did_ you put up with us for so long?” He popped his eyes open at that before closing them and letting out a deep sigh. I smirked, turning so I was straddling the bench and leaning over him with my hands supporting my head with my elbows. “Oooh, sounds like a story to me!” I couldn’t see his expression terribly well from this angle since it seemed upside down, but oh well.

He sighed, averting his gaze. “Really, Gary… the story isn’t as interesting as you’re probably hoping.” I frowned. Why did he always insist on thinking of himself as boring? He was probably the most interesting individual on the planet, with the time travel!

I groaned, rolling my eyes as I said “That’s Femme Boy speak for” here I adopted a high-pitched mock-girly voice “‘Oh, I don’t wanna talk about it because I’m too busy knitting and having my period, waaa!’” Smirking, I let my head droop enough so that my eyes were positioned right over his. My smirk faltered when I noticed that his irises had little flecks of gold in them.

Petey closed his eyes and sighed, before opening them again and fixing his gaze on me. Inexplicably, I flashed on a song from a movie my nanny used to make me watch with her on Valentine’s Day: _I swear that I can see forever in your eyes, paaaaaradiiiise_ … “Honestly, Gary, I didn’t have much of a choice.” He shrugged as I tried to stop that stupid fucking song from sounding in my head _Almost paradise! We’re knockin’ on heaven’s door!_ … Petey continued talking and resumed eye-contact, blissfully unaware of my thoughts. “You and Jimmy were the only people willing to be friends with me throughout the year.”

I gave a ‘fair enough’ shrug as I leaned back and turned away from him. The song died down after that; thank God. Eventually, it became clear that Jimmy had vanished into thin air, and by ‘thin air’ I mean of course that he went off to that lighthouse to have sex with his girlfriend. Being the gentleman that I am I kindly offered to protect Petey from any rapists who mistook him for a girl on his way home, which made him roll his eyes and laugh. He had his towel and shirt flung casually over his shoulder, and he waved to me cheerfully before shutting the door as he entered his house. Right after he closed it I lifted my hand automatically before lowering it and turning to go back to my house without waving at all.

~~~

Later that night, the usual insomnia was due to an unusual source—thoughts of Femme Boy were keeping me up. Moreover, it was thoughts of him on the bench next to me that occupied my mind while I traced whirls in the wood above my head with my eyes for the umpteenth time: the image of his body splayed out, eyes closed, just begging people to rake their gaze over him. …What would it have felt like if I’d touched him? I slipped my hand into my undershirt, trailing my fingers down my own side—well, I doubted I would’ve felt so many bones; Petey wasn’t nearly as skinny as I was. But I closed my eyes and ran my hands over my chest, shivering. What would he feel like? Warm… and softer, probably. As I felt my nipples and ribs, I became aware of a needed to pee; but I knew what needing to go to the bathroom felt like, and it certainly didn’t involve the vague stiffening of a penis. I frowned; what the hell? Sitting up and throwing off the covers, I just stared at my sleight erection. Was this seriously happening? Thinking about touching _Femme Boy_ of all people was giving me a hard-on?

…Or him touching me. I licked my lips as I thought about what would’ve happened if _he’d_ been the one leaning over me today; if he’d brushed his fingers over my chest. Lying down, I closed my eyes and imagined that it was Petey’s hands running over me as I did so to myself—he’d probably have that expression he wears when he sketches, with this deep concentration as he studied my body. My breathing had sped up by now; maybe eventually his eyes would be drawn to the tenting in my boxers, and he’d bite his lip a little before looking up at me questioningly. ‘Do… do you mind?’ I shook my head vigorously; I did _not_ mind. He smiled shyly before adjusting his position so he was closer to me.

I ran a hand over my boxers and nearly moaned—I had hardly _ever_ touched myself like this before, and it had never felt like _that_. I kept my eyes locked on a spot on the ceiling as I imagined that the hands running over my clothed member were Petey’s rather than my own. Licking my lips, I pretended he tugged the band of my boxers down. I let out a sharp exhale when I was exposed to the cool air—who knew that made such a difference? He would probably look up with that ‘worried Femme Boy’ look he gets, where his eyebrows are all furrowed. I whispered “It’s fine, I’m fine.” That smoothed his expression and he smiled at me. He nodded before looking back down at my cock.

Here I hit a mental brick wall. Had Petey even _had_ gay sex before? I made fun of him for that kind of thing of course, but… had he? I stared at the ceiling, feeling my heartbeat pound in my ears as I breathed heavily; fifteen years was a long time—it was _possible_ that he’d had sex with guys before, but the experience I knew he had certainly wasn’t with another guy. He’d only mentioned in passing that he’d made out with Lola before, but had refused to go into more detail on the matter; something about ‘respecting her privacy’ or some such. A voice in the back of my head whispered that that probably meant he’d fucked her, and that was just a gross image. Ugh.

I felt blood draining away from my crotch, and I frowned; crap, I hadn’t meant for _that_ to happen. Well… I didn’t know if he’d ever touched somebody else’s penis before, but I had little doubt that he’d masturbated. I propped myself back up and re-arranged the pillows so that I was able to lean against them. Thank God it was summer break; I’d never be able to do this if he was _in_ the _room_. As I settled in, I pictured him kneeling on the bed in front of me; no shirt, just boxers—he averted his gaze from mine as he settled in. ‘I’m just… not really used to doing this in _front_ of somebody…’

I smiled, slipping into ‘reassurance’ mode automatically. “It’s okay, Petey; it’s hardly different from doing it on your own, right?” He looked back up at me, smiling shyly.

‘I guess. But… it’s… kind of exciting, too.’ He licked his lips, and looked down at his boxers; they were starting to sport a noticeable bulge. Heat had rushed back to my own crotch by this point.

I ran my hand roughly over myself while I pictured Petey slipping his own hand into his boxers. “Y-yeah?” I whispered hoarsely. He nodded, getting up onto his knees and moving closer. Swallowing, I added “You like showing off for me, Femme Boy?”

He nodded again, but this time his smile was _sultry_ and he whispered ‘Do you like watching?’ as he pumped himself with one hand and slowly pulled his boxers off with the other. In response I sped up my own stroking, but hissed when it was suddenly _too_ hot.

“Fuck, ow!” I yanked my hand back, looking at my dick, frowning. Christ, that’d felt like getting an Indian burn! Hm… I needed there to be _less_ friction. After thinking for a while about what I had on-hand, I started kneading the bottom of my mouth with my tongue, trying to produce more saliva. Eventually, I was able to spit some into my hand, rubbing it in. I grimaced—bleh, this was disgusting. But when I began stroking myself again I couldn’t give less of a shit how gross it was; it felt _fucking awesome_. I let out some breathy exhales as I got back into the rhythm, trying to remember where in my fantasy I’d left off.

Petey was leaning back now, his boxers pushed down so he was totally exposed. I imagined his gaze was locked onto me as he said lowly ‘So what do you want to do?’ I frowned—I actually had no idea what to do; I’d tried masturbation before, but it hadn’t really appealed. Sex didn’t generally enter my thought process unless it was for a practical reason, like to make fun of Petey, or to manipulate somebody into doing something.

I screwed my eyes shut, trying to think of what it was people _did_ when they jacked off. Eventually, I whispered into the dark “Can… can you show me how to do this?”

I’d stopped trying to picture the sights, instead just imagining how his voice sounded like it was smiling when he replied. ‘Of course I can, Gary.’ He was probably the only person I knew that wouldn’t have laughed if I’d asked them to teach me how to masturbate. Not that I ever _would_ , obviously, but that fact was enough to let me imagine it. Taking my own hands away, I paused before imagining that he was saying ‘Well, you’ve already got the lubricant down…’ I wrapped my hand lightly around my shaft, pretending it was Petey’s—the rush of blood made it twitch suddenly, and I flinched back. ‘Yeah, that can happen. Now, you don’t wanna go _too_ fast; you need to build up to it.’ The hand began moving slowly up and down, and it was kind of unsatisfying. But I wasn’t sure if I should tell him to change his grip… ‘Come on Gary, you gotta tell me what you like! I can’t read your mind.’

Well that solved that problem. “Grip me harder. Um, please?” Wow this was awkward. But after that the grip on me tightened.

‘Is that good?’ I nodded. _Oh_ , yeah; the tighter grip started at the base, and the increased pressure felt so good. Then the hand moved up along the shaft, gently massaging me.

I rolled my head back, muttering “Ooohh…” The grip would taper off as it got higher, and it felt like I was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste—like all that stuff inside me was being coaxed out. And after the hand reached the end, it moved back down; “Aaaaaa _aa_ ” Shifting my hips in the direction of the grip let me increase the pressure and damn, there was a flood of saliva at the feeling. I was about to swallow before I stopped myself; licking my lips, I considered the stream of sensations from my crotch. _More_ certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing. I muttered “Hey, I’ve got… uh, more spit…”

‘Oh, good; here.’ A hand put itself near my mouth, and I began licking it. ‘Mmm… yeah…’ I slowed down, making each lathering pass of my tongue as deliberate as I could make it. The hand was trembling now. ‘Oh man, _Gary_ that feels so good…’ Christ, Petey saying my name; _that_ was hot. Resisting the temptation to open my eyes, I slathered my tongue along the edge of the palm. What the fuck was I even doing? It’s not like I cared anyway; my mouth was practically _dripping_ by now. Soon, though, I ran out of things to do—the hand had been fully coated, anyway. Reluctantly, it pulled away. ‘Later—you wanted to know how to jerk yourself, right?’ The illusion broke a little when I realized that I already had a hand pumping, and I wasn’t sure what else to try—would my other hand even fit? ‘It’s alright, Gary; just relax.’ But I couldn’t, there were too many variables!

I shook my head as I hissed “It’s too much…” And the hand retreated immediately. There, now at least I could consider other options. I breathed deep as I let the lingering heat of the friction from moments ago mix _gloriously_ with the chill provided by the cool air and saliva. Licking my lips, I thought; what other vocabulary about masturbation had I even heard?

‘I can try messing with the tip, how about that?’ Right, the tip. I could feel that part of my anatomy throb in time with my heart as I nodded my approval. The hand returned, this time circling a thumb over the hole in the top.

The result was instantaneous. “uhhhhmmmm Pete _yes_ ” the other hand began pumping but I barely noticed with the spike of pleasure from the rubbing against the head. “…Yesss Petey yes more _Pete_ faster _please_ aaaaaahh!…” The hand moved faster and faster, and soon the world had shrunk to the blazing heat and the waves of pleasure that kept crashing over me; each one made me feel as if I was drowning. I started panting and letting out words in a desperate stream even though my vocabulary had suddenly shrunk to _harder_ and _yes_ and _Pete_. The sheer number of sensations made me curl up on myself, and I could vaguely feel my legs shaking as it just kept getting more and more intense; soon reality fell away utterly—all I needed was for his hand to keep moving. I moaned shamelessly for him; I groaned his name; I begged him not to stop to _never_ _stop_. At some point I started shifting my hips so that there was even more pressure and I had never felt such a wave of pure bliss in my fucking life as I rolled my eyes into the back of my head and pressed my head back into the pillows as I groaned unintelligibly and for an instant it was like my being expanded and I felt _everything_ before I snapped abruptly back, panting and trembling as the aftershocks tore through—

A loud _BANGBANGBANG_ on my bedroom door made me snap my eyes open and freeze. “WHAT is that _fucking_ racket!?” Shit, my dad; I scrambled to grab the covers that had long since been discarded, throwing the blankets over my head in the irrational and hopeless attempt to avoid his anger. After a few moments of tense silence he said “Come _on_ now, what’s the rule?”

“…Be seen, not heard.” It was a little muffled by the covers, but I cursed myself for the automatic response.

“Good. See, son? You can manage to remember things when you want to.” I tightened my grip on the blanket, reminding myself that the last time I had used the anniversary as a taunt I had had to wear long-sleeve shirts for a _week_. I hated the icy fear that was filling my gut; it was _stupid_ , it was not like I had ever been told not to do this. “Go to sleep, and I don't want to hear another sound out of you all night. Is that clear?” I was unable to stop myself from nodding. There was obviously no way he could have sensed my response, but he said “Exactly. Some of us are trying to sleep.” The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway soon reached my ears.

A few seconds later, I could hear the distant sound of a door being opened and shut. I waited for a few more tense moments before crawling out from my makeshift blanket fort. My head hit the pillow a few moments later; there was nothing better to do, after all. So I ended up right back at the beginning—staring at my ceiling, mind restless. The only difference was that now, that ‘sex smell’ I had heard about permeated the space. I draped an arm across my eyes and grimaced; Goddamnit… tomorrow, I would have to see Petey and act like nothing had changed. I turned over, curling into myself. I could worry about that later—in the meantime I let the self-disgust crash over me as I finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Constructive criticism? Puns I missed? Death threats? Leave 'em below!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the person who left Kudos and the other who commented. Guess I should keep updating, then?

It took me a scary long time to figure out what was different with Scarface. Eventually I was a week in, and I realized I needed outside help; so I brought it up with Zoe one day post-fucking. I grinned and wiped my hand off on the sheets; damn, she’d been _wet_ that time! “So, pretty good?”

She let out a satisfied sigh before shrugging and putting her arms behind her head. “Eh, not bad.” I snorted, lying across her chest.

“‘Not bad’ my ass, you loved that!” I mean, Zoe’s pretty quiet but she’d clearly been into it.

She grinned, and said in a grossly-sweet tone “Not as much as I love _you_.” That made us laugh; she’d said it so _corny_!

But that reminded me; right, the thing with Gary. “Hey, by the way, I think I need a second opinion on somethin’. Wanna weigh in?” Normally I don’t say that kind of thing around a girl—they can be real touchy about it—but that's why I like Zoe so much. She’s one of my best friends, not just some hot chick.

Though, as I played with one of her boobs, it was totally not a downside. She rubbed my hair absently as she asked “Yeah? What about?”

Hm. How to put what I'd been noticing… “You seen anything, I dunno, _off_ about Gary lately?” She raised an eyebrow at that. I shrugged, adding “Yeah I know you’re not exactly _friends_ with the guy, but I kinda wanted a second pair of eyes to see if I was bullshitting myself or not.”

She shrugged, giving a _fair enough_ kinda look. While she thought, I took the time to really admire her boobs. They're not massive or anything, but I made sure to confirm that, yeah, still squishy. I smiled to myself; awesome. “Hm. Now that you mention it, he’s been a little more…” she snapped her finger like she was thinkin’. “Shit, what's the word? Adjacent? Abusive?”

She looked down at me with an eyebrow cocked and I shrugged. “Hey, don't look at me, I'm still stuck at English 3 even with Pete tutoring me.” She laughed, then started mock-noogying me.

“Aw, who’s my special little idiot?” I pushed her arm away, laughing, too.

“Hey, at least I can cook worth a damn. Unlike anybody else around here.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. The annoyance was pretty fair—I like bragging about that. But I hadn't even realized I was good at it until Pete got me that cookbook that had fuckin’ pictures instead of just words. Made me wanna know why all the _other_ cookbooks Mom ever bought in a sudden fit of stupid where she wanted to look like a good wife or some shit didn't just _show_ you what a tablespoon of cayenne pepper looked like. Speaking of which… I lifted my head off her belly. “Hey, you hungry?” I rolled out of bed (er… mattress) and made my way over to the bar of the beach house… thing. Whatever this place is.

“Nah, I’m good.” She sat up suddenly, clapping and pointing. “Abrasive!” She fist-pumped and added “Thank _God_ ; that was gonna bother me all day if I didn't remember it.”

I frowned as I rummaged around for the tortilla chips I’d stashed under the bar. “The hell does ‘abrasive’ mean?”

She started kinda shouting so I could hear. “Ya know, it's… like, you know how when ya brace something against something else it's like you're supporting it?” Finally finding what I was looking for, I popped back up from behind the bar, nodding as I vaulted over the counter. “Well, _a_ brasive is like when you have a thing that can wear something down. Like… corrosive.”

I nodded as I sat back down, munching on a chip. “…so Gary’s being… like, an acid?” I frowned; that didn't make much sense to me—maybe I was noticing shit that wasn't there?

Zoe looked uncertain about that, though, so maybe I was just crazy. “Kinda? Haha, way to add the ‘-id’ to the end of that.” She started grinning cheekily at that, and I had to stop and think for a sec before I got it.

“Hahaha! Yeah, he’ll probably start burning a _hole_ through something soon!” We both spent a few minutes giggling about that. Finally, I said “So you think Gary’s been more douchey than usual too?”

She grabbed a chip herself and nodded. “Yeah, I mean he fuckin’ went _off_ on Pete yesterday just for tapping his shoulder. Dude needed to take, like, five chill pills.”

I nodded, crunching on a chip myself. “Yeah, but don't tell him that. Meds are kinda a sensitive spot for ‘im.” She nodded, just confirming _I know that but thanks for reminding me_. “…so why do you think he’s been acting so weird?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “Well it's probably got something to do with ‘Femme-boy’.” She put Gary’s pet name for Pete in air quotes.

I shrugged as I munched on a handful of chips. “Yeah, he’s clearly boning for Pete pretty hard. But why would he suddenly start being more dicky than usual?”

Zoe leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands as she drummed her fingers and thought. I started staring at the floor, thinking, too. Was he mad at Pete for something? If he was he hadn't said what it was. After a while, Zoe said uncertainly “Maybe… he's got some kinda shitty situation at home?”

I tilted my head at that. He _had_ mentioned that his parents were one of his ‘problems’. “I can see that, but I don't really know how we’d know for sure.” Gary never talks about his past. Ever.

She reached out for a chip. “Maybe the heat’s getting to him or something. He _is_ a pale motherfucker.” I scrunched my face up in doubt. Like yeah, that seemed like it could maybe be a thing, but…

I sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “I dunno, man, I just feel like it's a bigger deal than that or something, ya know?” I thought back to all the times he’d been more ‘abrasive’ than usual this week; snapping at Pete for laughing too loud, storming off when Pete called it to a vote and we all wanted to go to the beach, knocking Pete’s ice-cream to the ground outta fuckin’ nowhere then suddenly _apologizing_ for it… my eyes widened; “Hey, do ya think maybe he, like, didn't _know_ he wanted to fuck Pete?” I shifted my head back down, and my train of thought got kinda de-railed when I saw Zoe licking salt off her fingers.

She smirked, sucking her middle finger in and clearly swirling her tongue around it. I licked my lips, recalling that same tongue working its magic a couple hours ago. She pulled her hand away pretty quickly, though. “Come on, how could he _not_ know?”

I blinked. What? “Uh, who?” She shook her head and laughed, and I flipped her the bird even as I was probably blushing like a fucking virgin.

She rolled her eyes. “You know, has a big ol’ scar over his eye, can’t go more than two seconds without interrupting somebody…” Even so, when she was done she winked—a silent ‘don’t worry, there’s always more where that came from.’

I shivered before shaking my head a little. “Right, um, Gary…” I frowned, considering what she’d said. “Well, he doesn't seem like he's all that into sex… Hell, I've only ever seen him flirt with Pete.”

She snapped a finger and pointed at that. “But that's the thing, if he’s flirting with Pete he's gotta know what he’s doing, right?” She shrugged, adding “I mean, do _you_ ever not know when you're flirting?”

I scratched the back of my head and crossed my legs. “Well no, but I actually, you know, have had sex. I don't even know if Gary’s even” here I put in some air quotes of my own “‘like-like’d somebody before, ya know?”

She frowned, giving it a little more serious consideration. “…but it's so obvious!” Even so, she held her chin thoughtfully. “It would explain things, though. It started right after the first day we went to the beach, right?” I nodded.

“Yeah, and Gary was _clearly_ checking him out.” We’d high-tailed it outta there. Figured they could use the privacy.

She nodded again, slowly lowering her hand. For a couple seconds the sound of the waves and seagulls were the only sounds. “…Shit, you might be right!” We both looked at each other.

“…and he calls _me_ a moron, sheesh!” I shook my head. Fucking hypocrite.

She snickered, but added “Hey, to be fair we should probably double-check. Be on the safe side and all.”

I nodded in agreement, getting to my feet as I went over to grab some clothes and actually get ready for the day. “Fair ‘nuff. I can try and catch him alone in the bathroom or something, try and get him to spill his guts.” I frowned as I pulled out a pair of tan shorts. Shit, tact isn't really my thing. Just gonna have to hope Gary didn’t get too squirrelly, I guess.

Zoe snorted when I tossed her a shirt and some pants. “Riiight, good luck with _that_. Jimmy Hopkins; master tactician.” When I stuck my tongue out at her, she just blew a raspberry in my direction as she pulled on the shirt I'd thrown her way. “Wow, way to be a petulant fuckin’ child, Jimmy.” I groaned; great, another word I'd never heard before.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Zo’. She flipped me the bird when her head popped through the shirt. I sighed as I pulled my pants on; I was just hoping Pete wouldn't catch on for some time yet.

~~~

Something’s up with Gary. Which, yeah, goes without saying, but whatever this is, it’s clearly more drastic than usual. I sighed as I shut the front door to my house, foregoing the usual bike to just walk over to the movie theater. It’s like back during the first loop, only this time it’s _weirder_.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets as I walked, the incident from the other day stood out most in my mind; I’d just been eating some ice cream and Gary’d randomly knocked it out of my hand. And not on accident or something, either—he’d slapped it out of my hand so fast that I had kept licking air for a second before realizing what had happened. I hadn’t even had the chance to say anything beyond a confused ‘uhhh’ before Gary had _apologized_. Well… kind of. What he’d said was more like “Shit, sorr—” followed by a few seconds of what appeared to be the brink of a mental breakdown. I had held my hands up, told him it was fine, accidents happen, and luckily he had dropped the ‘I’m dead inside’ look he got when that kind of thing happened. But it was clear to me that hadn’t been an accident; as an isolated incident, maybe. But I know Gary well enough to know when something’s up, and he’s been even more snappish than usual lately. Which kind of scares me, if I’m honest. I waved to a grownup as he passed by before dropping my polite smile, sighing to myself. The downside to being out of the loops is that, from here on out, nothing’s certain. I know Gary and Jimmy (and Zoe, to some extent) pretty well, but as time gets further and further from the end of the loops, they’re all becoming different people with different memories. I allowed myself a soft chuckle—I’m _out of the loop_. I frowned; I’ve seen Gary act kind of like this plenty of times before, especially after The Hole. By that point in the loops, he would usually be so off his rocker he would betray Jimmy no matter how many times I explained that Jimmy wasn’t conspiring against him. He’d say stuff like “I don’t need friends, friends are for the _weak_ ”, “You are such a _loser_ ”, or “Hanging out with that psycho? Psh, you really are pathetic” etc. But this behavior was different… I couldn’t quite put my finger on how, though.

Arriving at the movie theatre, I smiled when I saw the girl working the ticket stand. “Hi, Jane!” She looked up from furiously typing on her laptop, smiling when she saw me.

“Hey, Pete! How’re you doing?” She looked back to her screen for a moment, doing something while I talked.

I sighed “Okay, I guess… bit of ‘family drama’ lately.” I smiled to myself; that more closely described the situation than anything.

The freckled girl gave me a sympathetic look. “Aw, that’s too bad. Anything you wanna talk about?” I gave it a bit of thought.

That would be nice… this situation needed a bit of a colder eye to really analyze, and since I was stuck in it just as much as everybody else now I couldn’t exactly count on myself to be an impartial eye. Still, though. “Are you sure?” I eyed the computer when it emitted an alert noise that sounded like an alien beacon. “I know you like to keep in touch with the boyfriend…”

She blushed, but turned the computer off. “Sure, but I’ve got time for my friends too, of course! Plus…” She leaned near the hole with metal plating over it that seemed universal at movie theaters. I put my ear near it indulgently. Whispering, she said “it’s _Tuesday_. Tuesday _morning_. Nobody goes to the movies on Tuesday in the morning.” She leaned back suddenly, adopting a very friendly smile. “Good morning, sir!” I stepped aside quickly for the man and woman who had come up behind me—an older couple, by the looks of things. Their names escaped me, but I knew they were the grandparents of a couple of the Preps. I smiled politely at them as they made their way into the theatre, and they nodded politely back. Then, stepping back in front of the booth, I gave Jane an ‘are you sure you don’t want to take that foot out of your mouth’ kind of look. She shrugged, adding “Well, except old people. Tuesday is senior day, and you get an early bird special if you see a movie before twelve. Soo…” She leaned forward again, resting her head on her hands with what I thought might have been an overly-eager face for what I had to say. “What’s the drama in the fam?”

I sighed. Where to start? “Well… I’ve got this friend?” She nodded, encouraging me to continue. I leaned my elbows on the counter as I kept talking. “And… they’ve been acting kind of strange, lately.” She frowned, tilting her head in a questioning manner, so I added “See, they’re not usually a _nice_ person; they have a lot of mental hang-ups, so I get it when they sound judgmental or rude.” I shrugged even as she frowned skeptically. “I don’t mind that stuff, honestly.” And I don’t; I’ve gotten too used to Gary over the years to get hung up over stuff like him calling me girly or making fun of my sexuality or whatever. It was just what he _does_. “But lately h—they’ve been acting… more mean than usual.” I frowned, looking at nothing in particular as I added “Well, it’s not quite the same as how they usually act. Usually they do stuff like make fun of me to make them feel better, you know?” Jane adopted a horrified expression and I shook a hand in a placating manner. “It’s fine, it’s just what they do—I’m used to it.” I continued my explanation, hoping that if I just got to it she’d drop the pitying look. “But what they’re doing lately is different; they get angry when somebody does anything minor, like bump into hi—them by accident or, I dunno, eating ice cream wrong.” I stopped, letting that sink in.

Jane looked pensive for a moment before asking “How long did you say this has been happening for?” Then she added “The extra-mean behavior, I mean.”

I thought about it for a moment. It’d started around the day we’d gone to the beach (there wasn’t too much to do in this town, after all)—and that had been last Thursday. “About five days, I’d say.”

She nodded. “Okay. Um…” here she scrunched her face up in thought, before saying slowly “I think the important question here is to ask _why_ this friend of yours is acting like this.” She tilted her head at me, asking “Do you have any idea why they might be doing this?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know for sure. I have some ideas? But I really don’t want to assume; I’d rather do something that doesn’t involve me getting into their business. They’re a pretty private person.” She nodded, like she thought that made sense. “I mean, if I just come out and _ask_ them directly I know they won’t tell me—they’ll just weasel out of it with some explanation for that particular instance and not the bigger picture, ya know?” I sighed as she nodded again. Being friends with Gary really can be a chore sometimes. “I guess… what really worries me is that there might be something _very_ wrong.” I crossed my arms on the counter and leaned closer to the glass. Jane looked so sad for me; I really am lucky to have so many good friends. I continued quietly “Like… suicidal thoughts, or a death in the family, or something equally dangerous? And the fact that they’re not telling me scares me.... Like they don’t trust me.”

The silence hung for a bit as the distant sound of seagulls and the town buoy made themselves known. Eventually, Jane hung her head. “I’m sorry that you’re needing to make these kinds of choices, Pete… you’re so young.” I half-smiled at that; I wasn’t quite as young as I looked, but oh well. She lifted her head, continuing “I’ve had similar situations with friends… where I find out after the fact that they were hurting or in trouble but I hadn’t said anything because _they_ hadn’t said anything.” She closed her eyes, and I could see her ball a fist up. I reached through the hole at the bottom of the ticket-taking window to touch her hand as best I could; she gave me a grateful smile as I pulled away. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and continued “Even so, there isn’t really anything you can do to _make_ your friend ask you for help—all you can really do is make sure they know you’re there for them if they need you. One of the best things you can do is provide a sympathetic, non-judgmental ear, you know? Not trying to advise them, just… listen to what they’re going through. You know, if they want to talk about it.”

I nodded slowly as I considered her advice. Seemed reasonable. Still… I sighed when I’d absorbed it all. I smiled a little sheepishly, adding “Part of me was hoping you’d just tell me to slap them in the face and tell them to cut it out.” We shared a laugh about that—some days it was a very thin line that kept me from doing exactly that. When we were done, I took a breath and straightened up. “But thanks for the advice, Jane; I really needed that.” A mini-reality check that, like me, Gary’s human; he’s doing this weird stuff for a reason, no matter how obtuse that reason may be, and if he didn’t want to share it that was okay—I can still be there if he needs a friend.

Jane grinned, a wide, happy grin rather than the professional smile that she’d given the old couple earlier. “Aw, I’m glad you feel better! So, what movie did you want to see?”

I laughed; I’d forgotten to even pick one! “Um… I dunno, what’s good?” I hadn’t seen _any_ of the movies now—they were all new, which was exciting, but I’d seen enough trailers for the Transformers movie to want to punch that Shia LaBeouf kid in the face. That one didn’t come out until tomorrow, though. I knew because I’d only seen the previews a half-zillion times before _300_ and that dragon one—they sure love to point out that the release date was July 4 th. ‘Remember kids, if your parents don’t take you to see it they aren’t American!’

She straightened up, looking excited. “Ooh, _Live Free or Die Hard_ is a fun popcorn flick!” I leaned over, looking at the whiteboard that displayed the movies playing for the day, and at what time. Bullworth is honestly pretty lucky to have a 3-screen theatre for such a small town. “I haven’t seen _Ratatouille_ , but it’s a Pixar movie and it’s gotten pretty good reviews, so that’s bound to be excellent.” She looked behind her at the list of films for herself, thinking. “Mm… Ooh, yeah, _Sicko_ was pretty depressing, but definitely good to see.”

I frowned. I had no idea what that one was. “What’s that about?”

Jane gave me an even look. “Michael Moore documentary about American healthcare.” I grimaced; that sounded interesting, of course, but… she laughed at my expression. “Yeah, I feel you.” Then she straightened up and adopted her ‘customer service’ face, quickly adding “Good morning! How can I help you today, sir?” I stepped to the side, looking back at whoever’d walked up.

To my surprise, it was Gary. “Oh, hey man! Geze, way to say ‘hi’!” I snickered—typical Gary to just walk up to somebody without even greeting them.

He shrugged, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “Aw, but I couldn’t _bear_ to interrupt you and your girlfriend’s talk, Femme Boy!”

I rolled my eyes; of course. Jane, however, beat me to the punch. “Um. Who’s…” she was looking between the two of us with confusion.

I pointed at myself. “Yeah, ‘Femme Boy’ is me. Oh, right, have you two met?” Jane shook her head, amused to see that I was excited, but I couldn’t help it. Introducing my friends to each other feels so more natural, now that I don’t know how the interactions play out! “Gary, this is Jane—Jane, this is Gary! Um…” I tried to think of something they both had in common, but couldn’t think of anything. So I resorted to plan B, saying how I’d met them. “Gary’s my roommate at Bullworth, and Jane gives really good movie recommendations.”

Jane gave Gary a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you!” I swallowed nervously when I saw his expression, though; the bags under his eyes indicated a severe lack of sleep, even for him.

Chuckling at Jane’s greeting, he leaned an arm on the counter at the booth, grinning toothily as he said “Wow, you must be new around here if it’s ‘nice to meet’ _me_.” He then looked Jane up and down from his new angle before adding slyly “And, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you a bit, ahem, _old_ for our little Petey?” and here he reached out to grab my arm, presumably to drag me into center-stage for the performance. But his hand flinched when he made contact with my upper arm, and before I could blink he’d jerked his hand back and shoved it deep into a pants pocket. It didn’t seem like Jane noticed, though; her expression had shifted to one of confusion—the ‘I’m not sure if this is supposed to be funny or insulting’ face people so often sport when Gary talks with them.

Guess that was my cue to step in. I clapped my hands to interrupt Gary before he could say anything else. “So! _Gary_ , what movie did you wanna see?” At his name, he seemed to flinch a little. What’d I do _now_? Luckily it didn’t seem to be too big a deal, since he leaned to the side a little to read the whiteboard without argument. As he read, I relaxed a little and added “I hear _Ratatouille_ is really good.” Then, more to myself I said “Haven’t seen a new Pixar movie in a while!” The only reason I’d been able to see any on the big screen during the loop was because of ‘audience screening night’, where people would bring their own copy of a film from home to be shown on the big-screen.

Jane nodded. “Yeah, and the last one was _Cars_.” She made an ‘ew’ face and blew a raspberry; I laughed, even though that wasn’t quite what I’d meant.

Gary interjected with a question. “What’s this… _Black Sheep_ thing? Says it’s a horror movie?” And he fixed Jane with a bit of a stare. I’m pretty sure that Gary doesn’t stare at people like that specifically to creep them out; he doesn’t even seem to realize it’s weird.

…But at the same time, I was also pretty sure that he would’ve found it funny that it creeps people out. Jane handled it pretty well for somebody who’d never met Gary, mostly going “Uhhh” for a few moments where she tried to determine if Gary realized what he was doing and that it was weird before thinking maybe _she_ was being weird about it and turning back to look at the board herself to delay the issue. I had had that exact thought process many times. “That’s… Oh!” Then she turned back around, an amused look on her face. “Haha, yeah, that’s the owner’s pick. She _really_ likes horror, and her wife is from New Zealand.” She then paused at the blank look I and Gary were both throwing her way before adding “It’s one of those movies where X critter gets a super-gene injected into them or something and goes crazy, basically becoming like zombies. This one’s about sheep in New Zealand.” Ooh, okay. I nodded slowly at the dawning comprehension.

Gary then quickly turned to me and said “You know, that movie sounds fun Petey!—wanna see that?”

I rolled my eyes at his shit-eating grin, sighing as I said “Come on dude, you know I don’t like horror movies. Besides, that sounds _kinda_ dumb, you gotta admit.”

“You’d have to wait until seven to see it, anyway, I’m afraid.” Gary snapped his head over to Jane, who shrugged. “Usually horror movies are popular with people going on dates, so we keep those kinds of showings to the evening.” I nodded—that made sense; I’d read somewhere that going through a traumatic experience helped build trust, and horror movies are a good way to do that on a first date.

Gary, however, lowered his voice. “And just _what_ are you trying to imply?” That was a threat despite the casual tone—I looked over at him, and he had crossed his arms and was leaning forward.

Unfortunately for her, Jane couldn’t tell how close to his danger zone she was. “Imply? I wasn’t implying anything, I don’t think—”

Gary let out a bark of laughter and a cruel smirk at that. “Oh, _clearly_. From what I hear, not thinking seems to be a specialty for cashiers.” I nearly groaned in frustration. Jesus, it wasn’t even _noon_ and he was already being a massive prick.

Pulling out my wallet, I pushed twenty-five bucks under the window. “Two for the ten o’clock _Die Hard_ movie, please.” I sighed as Jane blinked before nodding and began typing in the theatre computer. “Feel free to ignore him, he’s just being an asshole.” Then, turning to Gary, I asked “Jimmy and Zoe’ll probably like that one, right?”

As the tickets printed out and I looked Gary in the face, the other boy cycled through a variety of expressions so fast I couldn’t quite pin down what his thoughts were. By the time Jane was pushing the tickets through the window, he’d wiped his face of any emotion. “Well Gary, I don’t know what other people say, but it was very nice to meet you. I hope you both enjoy your movie!” I thanked her, and moved to head inside, with Gary trailing after me.

Once we were in the air-conditioned theatre, I snorted. “Wow, way to make a first impression there, Gary.” Then I held out one of the tickets to him as I looked over at the arcade. Honestly, this was the real reason to come to the movie theatre; most days we’d buy a ticket for one movie and then spend the rest of the day playing games at the arcade. Plus, I like how I can soundly kick _everybody_ ’s ass at DDR and Street Fighter. I’m not good at a lot of competitive stuff, after all. When I glanced back at Gary, though, he still hadn’t taken his ticket; he was holding his hand out, like he expected me to hand it to me. I frowned as I placed the ticket in his hand. Something wasn’t right about this. I sighed—now was probably as good a time as any. “Listen, Gary…” He blinked, stopping his furious staring contest with the floor to look up at me. “I know something’s wrong, okay?” The other boy stiffened, but I kept talking despite that. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s _something_.” Stuffing my ticket in my pocket, I held up my other hand in an ‘it’s okay’ gesture. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just want you to know I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”

At first, Gary didn’t visibly react, instead just staring at me intently. Then, he said quietly “Why’d you pay?” I blinked. What?

I shook my head, replying “‘Cuz you were being an asshole? You don’t have to pay me back or anything....” Crossing my arms, I tilted my head questioningly “But can you cut the bullshit for a _second_ and just say whether you wanna tell me whatever it is that’s messing with you?” I lifted one eyebrow, waiting for Gary to get his head out of his ass and say something. He just shook his head, not looking at me. I sighed a little; I’d expected as much. “Okay, then. Just lemmie know if you wanna talk.” At least he hadn’t gotten mad. Then I gave a lop-sided grin, adding “Hey, since _I_ paid, how about _you_ pay for the arcade?”

Things went mostly normally from there on out, with Jimmy and Zoe arriving just in time to go see the movie with us. Gary and Jimmy sat together, and me with Zoe. I hadn’t gotten to know her much over the loops, since Jimmy only really befriended her near the end of the school year, but she was super fun to talk to. Turns out she’s quite well-read, so she often has a lot to say about things—even if she claims the only reason she reads is boredom. We spent a happy hour and a half critiquing the movie together; I hadn’t actually seen the other _Die Hard_ movies, so Zoe filled me in. Finally, we came out of the movie and hit the games. I wasn’t sure what Jimmy and Gary had talked about, but Gary was somehow even _more_ wound up than he had been earlier. I tried not to groan; great, that meant Jimmy knew something. Or Gary thought he knew something. But I thought back to my conversation with Jane, reminding myself that it’s not my place to make Gary tell me what’s wrong with him; he had to tell me himself.

Soon, though, things took a turn for the weird when Jimmy asked “Hey, you guys wanna go to, um, the carnival?”

I shrugged, saying “Sure, sounds fun.” Gary didn’t give any sign that he’d heard beyond a very distracted nod.

After leaving the theatre, though, Jimmy suddenly slapped himself in the forehead. “Oh shit! I forgot, we’ve got a, um…” here he looked at Zoe “aaaa budget. Meeting.”

There was a moment of silence while everybody processed this declaration. Zoe responded first, nodding in agreement. “Oh yeah, totally forgot. Very important meeting. Gotta balance our expenditure and deficit.”

I blinked, and started snickering as Jimmy waved goodbye, Zoe hot on his heels. “Well, see you guys later! Oh!” Then he walked up to Gary, grabbing his hand and looking at him pointedly as he shook his hand. “Have fun, man.” He then backed away, throwing a mock salute.

As I giggled harder at whatever the hell was going on, Zoe shouted over her shoulder “But not too much fun!” before the pair disappeared from view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody who finds a pun I didn't realize was there wins my undying admiration.
> 
> I guess you can leave constructive feedback if you want, too. Since you're in the comment box and all.


	3. Chapter 3

Petey was giggling like crazy as my fist closed around the object that Jimmy had slipped into my hand. I didn’t bother looking at it as I stuffed it hurriedly into my back pocket, hoping to _God_ he hadn’t noticed anything; figures the moron would have condoms on-hand. There were a few moments of quiet as Pete reigned in his laughter before putting his hands on his hips and adding “Welp. That was a thing that just happened!” And he started moving in the direction of the carnival. “Shall we?” I didn’t follow for a moment. Then my brain screamed at me to _FUCKING MOVE_ already, and I was following in Petey’s footsteps while he talked about something or other; I was too busy thinking back to my conversation with the moron from earlier in the day to listen to him.

Fucking _typical_ that Jimmy Goddamn Hopkins was somehow able to see the only thing I was trying to hide. He’d, at some point in the middle of the movie, leaned over and said casually “Hey, so… Pete’s pretty cute, huh?” It was lucky for me I hadn’t been drinking anything at the time because I absolutely would have started having a coughing fit.

As it was, I’d shrugged and responded “If that’s what you’re into, I suppose.” I thought I did an admirable job keeping the panic out of my reply. If _Jimmy_ was able to figure it out, there was no telling how quickly Petey could catch on.

But he’d surprised me. “Yeah! Think I should tap that?” Whipping my head in his direction, I wasn’t able to keep the momentary shock out of my expression before I narrowed my eyes. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged at me, grabbing another handful of popcorn as he talked. “I mean, the thing Zoe and I got’s pretty casual, you know?” Finishing his chewing, he leaned my way and lowered his voice a bit. “And that kid’s got fuckin’ _perfect_ skin, ya know?” And as he was grinning at me he licked his lips lewdly.

Before I realized what was happening I’d grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward so I could growl “You touch him and I will fucking _end_ you, moron.” I only had a moment to appreciate the fear in his face before realizing I’d just shot myself in the foot.

Jimmy’s eyes darted to look at where Petey and Zoe were as he whispered “Whoa, dude, chill! I’m just messing with you, okay? Christ…” and he extracted my hand from his shirt. Even so, he leaned closer as he continued “Look, man; if you’re boning for Pete so hard, when’re you gonna ask him out?”

I blinked, the sound of an explosion from the screen sounding in the background. Leaning as far away from him as I could while remaining in my seat, I said “I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about, Hopkins.” And I resumed watching the movie, even though I couldn’t care less what was happening to some bald guy and his reedy little hacker sidekick.

Something that sounded like a slap came from Jimmy’s seat, and I glanced over to see him with his hand on his forehead. To my horror, he moved up the armrest and scooted closer to me as he said quietly “Come _on_ , dude! I know you call me a moron, but I’m not _deaf_ —you’ve had a pet-name for him since we met!”

I snorted at that. “ _Pet_ name? What, ‘Femme Boy’? Last I checked that was an insult.” Still, though; a part of me shriveled to think that Jimmy might have actually figured this out before I had.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance “Oh, bull _shit_ , Gary; I saw you yesterday—your eyes were fuckin’ _glued_ to his throat when he was drinking that soda.” He looked at me incredulously before rolling his eyes and adding “Seriously, if you’d been lookin’ at _me_ like that I’d-a been on my knees in a _heartbeat_.”

I blinked and processed his statement before staring at him in disgust. “What the _fuck_? Get away from me!” He shifted away, though not as far as I’d have liked.

“I’m just sayin’, man.... Look—” here he glanced back to where Petey and Zoe were sitting, and his expression turned sympathetic. I felt my insides curdle in disgust at the pitying look he was sending my way as he continued “Askin’ somebody out isn’t easy, I get it. But’chya gotta put yourself out there, you know? You can’t just let this kinda shit fly under the radar, it’ll fuck everything up!”

To my immense relief, I saw the credits begin to roll. I hissed “I don’t need _pity_ from some fucked-up, fatherless _bastard_ ” before putting my hand on his face and shoving him back, slipping out of my seat to meet up with Petey and Zoe. Oh his piggy face had been pissed, for sure.

“Gary? Hellooo?” I blinked, and noticed a hand waving back and forth in front of me. It turned out to be Petey, who gave a lopsided grin when I looked at him. “Geze, Gary, you’re gonna make me go deaf with all the talking you’re doing.” I shrugged. God, he was adorable. My mind frantically tried to come up with something halfway intelligent to say, but it was far more interested in watching the way his mouth moved as he dropped the grin down to a simple smile as he backed away from me. “You comin’?” I shivered as I followed him, remembering him saying something very similar in one of my fantasies. He nodded after seeing me move and turned around to open one of the gates to the carnival—and even as my eyes were dragged magnetically downward to look at his butt I narrowed my eyes.

This couldn’t be a coincidence; did he _know_ what Mr. and Mrs. Moron had done? Having some grounding to base my thinking off of helped me cling to reason even as hormones demanded I rake my gaze up and down Petey’s backside. My toehold on sanity finally allowed me to say something bordering on intelligent. “So, what do you wanna do first, Femme Boy?”

He slowed down, hands casually shoved in his pockets as he glanced at me while we strolled down the main thoroughfare. “I’m down for pretty much whatever. What do you wanna do?” I swallowed thickly, looking away quickly. I could think of _some_ things I wanted to do.... Or people. It must’ve shown in my body language somehow, because Petey then said “uhhh…”

I interrupted with “How about…” my eyes fell on the baseball-themed game “that one?” I strode over without looking at him because if I did I would’ve wanted to grab him and if I did _that_ I wouldn’t want to let go. I leaned on the counter as that fat Greaser Hal attempted to throw some shots. “Wow, greaseball, you throw like a _girl_!” I grinned at him as he threw me a pissed-off look. Ah, sowing the seeds of chaos; always a fun pastime.

“Hey, watch yer mouth, _rich boy_.” He leaned closer to me, and I could smell his breath. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as he continued “Sittin’ on _your_ skinny ass’d probably kill ya.”

I leaned back, coughing and waving my hand to ward off the smell. “Ugh, do you _ever_ brush your teeth?” Throwing a pitying look his way, I added “Then again, I suppose you and Edna are rather suited for each other!” I smirked as his face turned red with rage. He couldn’t fight me here, not right in front of the attendant for the game. And he _knew_ it.

But then Petey walked up beside me. “Hi, Hal; oh, is Gary being a prick? Sorry about that.” He looked at Pete, frowning.

“Shit. Your friend, right?” Petey nodded, and he sighed, annoyed and muttering “Fine, fine… you’re lucky you’ve got nice friends, dickface…” as he stormed off.

I groaned, shoving Petey as I added “Goddamnit Femme Boy, can I not have _any_ fun with the morons in this town anymore?”

Here, Petey gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. “Oh my God, Gary, do you hear that?” and he held his hand up to his ear, looking off into the middle distance. I frowned, trying to listen. Then he leaned forward, and his face split into a grin. “That’s the sound of me not giving a shit!” He leaned back, laughing. I blinked, but Goddamn if that wasn’t contagious. I joined in, and soon we were both in stitches. Eventually the guy at the game had to tell us to fuck off or buy some balls or something, which just sent a fresh wave of convulsions through my body as I stumbled away, laughing harder than I had in… a while.

The next few hours, though, quickly drained my good humor away. He _knew_ , but he wouldn’t just come the fuck out and _say_ anything! He would… _touch_ me, tapping my shoulder or tugging on my shirt to get my attention. Because apparently he doesn’t know how to say ‘Hey, look over here!’ like everybody else on the fucking planet. And he’d do other things too, like asking me if I was okay, _giggling_ , biting his lip, just… _teasing_ me! Don’t even get me _started_ on the way he ate cotton candy; all tongue, letting it melt in his mouth, licking leftovers off his face. God I hated it. Well… that wasn’t entirely true; there were multiple occasions where I had to make my excuses to go to the bathroom when I felt a bulge growing in my pants. But I hated how he wouldn’t even _comment_ on that, just nod in his ‘oh I’m so understanding’ Femme Boy way and wait patiently doing something else while I fapped my fucking brains out as quietly as I could. It was _torture_ —knowing what I wanted so badly was _right there_ but that I could never have it. I could feel myself balancing on a knife’s edge, trying to keep it under control but at the same time knowing I was only a breath away from just giving in and shoving him to the ground and doing… doing _something_ , I didn’t even know what!

The straw that broke the camel’s back came when I was just making casual conversation and had said something questionable. Apparently. And of course my eyes were glued to his lips as he licked them before biting a little, sending blood straight to my groin _again_. But that wasn’t all, oh no! A few seconds later he, and I swear to fucking God in Heaven this is true, started _moaning_. I shoved him away as hard as I could, glowering as he stumbled and fell. “STOP. Just stop it!” I had my fists clenched and my arms were vibrating; I hated how weak my voice sounded, like I was _begging_. “Stop fucking _playing_ with me like this!” He couldn’t _possibly_ be doing all this stuff by accident! Petey is smart, and he knows me better than anybody else. There was simply _no way_ he didn’t know what he was doing to me.

But he looked up at me with a ‘that was so hurtful why would you do that’ look and said “Wha… _playing_ with you?” Using the wall to pick himself up off the ground, he gestured over to the carnival games. “Isn’t that the whole _point_ of coming here?”

I breathed heavily for a couple of seconds before I started laughing coldly. “Oh, that’s just _hilarious_ , Petey! That’s _tooootally_ what I meant!” I lowered my voice to a snarl. “Just admit it, Pete; you must be having sooo much fun torturing me.” I grinned cruelly as Petey blinked, trying to absorb the fact that I’d caught him in his little game. “See, I was wondering why you were still hanging around with me—all that talk about having to settle for being friends with somebody like me?” I shrugged and added “Now that you’ve got _real_ friends, what do you need me for?” Here I laughed; “But I finally figured it out! You keep me around to mess with me, don’t you?”

Petey’s face had taken on a look of horror that just pissed me off. He answered me after stammering “Wha… you… G-Gary, of course I don’t! What are you _talking_ about?” Oh that was just fucking _rich_!

“Save it, Kowalski! I _know_ you.” His face turned even more horrified at that. “You think you’re so FUCKING perfect!” I started walking up to him, and his back hit the wall as I advanced. “Oooh, look at me, I’m Peter Kowalski, I’m the only sane motherfucker in this hell-hole!” Planting my hands on either side of him, I leaned in and started whining “Oooh, my crazy roommate is the only one who’ll be friends with me!” I was closer to him than I had been in a week and the proximity buzzed just under my skin as I leaned in to whisper “Let’s make him wanna **fuck** me, won’t that be _hilarious_!?” and I could feel his body pressing into mine and it was so warm and inviting as the buzzing ratcheted up to become a hum that spread over every inch of my skin as I finally gave in and pressed my lips onto his. God it felt so _good_. To my delight his mouth opened shortly after, and I was able to move my tongue past his teeth. My eyes slid shut and I lapped him up like I was dying of thirst; it was a lot less spacious in there than I would have expected. I could taste a little bit of cotton candy as I desperately roved my tongue inside the small space. Either way, the sweet taste was overwhelmed by the general ‘watery’ flavor; not what I expected either, but I didn’t care. Was what I was doing even sexy? Who the fuck _knew_ , I just wanted more. My hands moved from the wall to ball themselves in the front of his shirt as I deepened my exploration; all those times this week I’d caught myself staring at his lips and jaw while he talked with a formless _wanting_ suddenly translated to a very concrete need to memorize everything about his tongue and teeth and taste. I moaned; I had never thought something as disgusting as another person’s mouth could feel so good. As I moved my head so I could try and actually lick the back of his throat our noses rubbed uncomfortably together. The contact reminded me of reality a bit, enough so that I was able to notice when Petey started jerkily moving his arms to push on my shoulders. Coupled with the lack of response from his end, that confirmed my suspicions. I smirked as I pulled back even as I felt my chest clench painfully at the rejection. As I stepped back, I said hoarsely “Aw, but Petey, I thought this what you _wanted_!” I licked my lips as I examined him. The best word to describe his expression eluded me; bamboozled, flabbergasted, and ‘wuhbuhhhhh!?’ all came to mind.

“Wh-wha… _whaaaat_!? Haha, okay…” here he held out a finger and put his other hand on his forehead as he tried to gather himself. “Okay, just…” He started laughing a little hysterically before continuing “Gary, is _this_ ” and here he gestured frantically between the two of us “what you’ve been so upset about this past week?” And he looked at me with such an imploring expression that I honestly couldn’t find it in me to think that he was messing around.

Still, though; I laughed a little desperately and said “Well what the fuck _else_ would it be?”

To my annoyance, his expression turned thoughtful. “…that would explain the sudden aversion to touch… I guess…” A few moments of contemplation filled with the sounds of the carnival surrounding us passed before he snapped a finger and pointed at me. “Wait, is _that_ was what the ice cream was about!?”

My lip curled up, and I growled “Well it’s hardly my fault you looked like you _desperately_ needed a fucking cock in your mouth right at that moment.” His eyes widened to the size of saucers at that and he held his hands up.

“Whoa! Whoa, that’s um…” Clapping his hands together, he averted his gaze awkwardly as his cheeks took on a red tinge “Uhhh haha, _wow_ … yeah.” I made a mental note to try and embarrass him in the future (because he looked adorable) before I realized I probably wasn't going to be talking to him again, ever. He rubbed the back of his neck before shaking his head, looking back at me, confused. “Wait, so… are you saying you… want to ask me on a date?”

My jaw worked furiously as I tried to say _something_. Eventually I managed a desperate-sounding “What I’m saying is I want to have _sex_ with you!” I was hardly so arrogant to assume that Petey would want to fucking _date_ me. Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and headed toward the exit; no point sticking around now.

Unfortunately, Petey decided to follow after, saying “Wait, what? Hey! Where are you _going_?” I shrugged. All I knew was that I didn’t want to stick around for this. “Gary, will you just fucking WAIT for a Goddamn second!?” I felt him grab onto my shoulder, which made me seize up and turn around to shove him back. To my surprise, though, he anticipated my shove and stepped to the side just in time to dodge it before quickly snatching up my arm before I could turn away. “Gary, listen to me. You are one of my _best friends_ , and I am **_not_** playing with you, okay?” He’d begun staring at me intently. It vaguely occurred to me to think _so that’s what it looks like when I do that_ as he continued talking. “I don’t… well, I’ve never really considered whether or not I’m, um, attracted to you…” Here he frowned uncertainly as the blush returned, though less extreme than earlier, before continuing. “But… I’d be willing to, I dunno, try it out?” and he stepped closer to me, winding one arm around my waist and draping the other on my shoulder. My breathing stopped entirely as he leaned closer to my face, his expression uncertain before he leaned in and pressed his lips onto mine. I had tried to avoid imagining him kissing me, since I couldn’t replicate that on my own; but I had ended up spending an inordinate amount of time on it anyway, and it was exactly like how I had fantasized—lightly pressing his mouth onto mine, shy and uncertain; pure _Femme Boy_.

At that moment, my logical brain suddenly decided to join the party and start screaming at me that I had no idea what I was doing. Was I not doing enough? Where was I supposed to put my hands? Was I allowed to add tongue to the mix? What about—my panicky thoughts were interrupted when he moved closer, and his mouth opened a little to brush his tongue along my lower lip. I groaned, my arms automatically coming up to wrap around his neck and sucking it into mine so I could taste more of that warm, soft tongue. It felt weird to taste Petey in my mouth but oh I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He explored me much less desperately than I had him, taking the time to massage our tongues together, which dialed the heat quickly pooling between my legs up a few notches. Petey clearly knew what he was doing better than I did, since every swipe felt assured and practiced—he had the technical aspect down pat. I shuddered as I felt him brush the roof of my mouth; I let him dictate the terms of the kiss for now and used the down time to loosen one of my hands from around his neck and start exploring the rest of his body. At that moment, though, he retreated and pulled away. I was tempted to tighten my grip on his neck to keep the sensations going, but I wanted to see his face. So I dropped my hand to his shoulders as he leaned back. We were both breathing heavily, to my surprise; as I watched, his flushed face broke out into a huge grin, which was, to my mind, the best part. He shook his head a little and laughed, and I commented breathlessly “Wow; _Petey_ …” which just made me want to kiss him again because _holy fuck I just made out with Peter Kowalski_.

He snickered bashfully when I said that, rubbing the back of his head. “Uhhh, thanks? I guess?” The blush had deepened even more, which prompted me to start nuzzling his face. “Hahaha, um oh- _kay_?” I had been so utterly certain that Petey would never want me that a large part of me was still banking on the last… shit, few seconds being a crazy dream; well, if it was I _never_ wanted to wake up. Eventually, I kept my forehead rested against his, just looking into his eyes. I wasn’t moving, but my mind and body were on fire; it was like the first week that I’d fully stopped taking my meds, with my thoughts flying everywhere at the sheer possibility and feeling like my skin had pop rocks fizzing just beneath the surface. It was exhilarating—Christ, if this was what kissing people was like I could see why Jimmy did it so often. Somewhere in the haze of adrenaline Petey said uncertainly “Um, maybe we should get out of the middle of the path?” He moved slowly back from me as he talked, adding “We’re… kind if in people’s way.”

I blinked as he moved away, only noticing now that we were standing in a rather public place. As he dropped his hand from my waist and moved further away, I slid my hand on his shoulder down his arm to grasp his hand. Brushing my thumb over the scar on the back of his hand, I said absently “Mm, you’re probably right, Petey.” Then, as we started moving toward the exit, a light-bulb went off in my head, cutting a swath through the haze of hormones, at least a little. I smirked, a plan quickly forming in my mind as I began pulling him along. “Yeah, actually!” He stumbled a little as I picked up the pace, but the fizzing had died down to just where I was touching him and I wanted that tingling feeling to engulf my body again. Looking at him over my shoulder, I grinned as he made eye-contact after straightening up at my burst in purpose and speed and said “Let’s go someplace that’s a little more _secluded_ , hm?” His eyebrows went up a little before I turned back around to open the gate to the carnival to leave.

Tightening his grip on my hand, he said as we left “What did you have in mind?” I looked back at him, licking my lips at the calm expression he was sporting… unless you were looking for the sleight color in his cheeks.

I would rather castrate myself with a rusty spoon than bring anybody to my house, and I figured there would be some way to sneak into his. “I could probably climb that tree in your yard....” I frowned, thinking of how the hell I was going to climb a tree.

To my surprise, he started laughing. I turned to look at him as we were walking down the tunnel, and he said “Or maybe we could, I dunno, ask my parents if you could stay the night?” I blinked; would that really work? He laughed harder at my expression. Rolling his eyes, he added “What, did just _asking_ not even occur to you?” I turned around to avoid eye-contact, because it had not, in fact, occurred to me to ‘just ask’. That set him snickering as he pulled up alongside me to peer at my expression. “Oh my God, it didn’t!? Hahaha!”

I shoved him, sacrificing the electric hum of his hand to remind him that I did have _some_ pride. “Shut up, Femme Boy.” He stumbled, but didn’t fall down—nor did he stop laughing.

He dialed it back to giggling as he hooked his arm into mine, rolling his eyes as he added “Oh, Gary—you’re such a fuckin’ basket case!” I narrowed my eyes at that, but his close proximity set the arm he’d grabbed buzzing all over again and I kind of stopped caring that he’d technically insulted me. Instead, I wrapped my other arm around him, pulling him in so I could kiss him again. Damn, that was fucking _intoxicating_.

Pulling back, I whispered “Aw, but I’m _your_ basket case, Femme Boy.” Licking his lips again and moving us toward the wall of the tunnel, I felt the pop rocks spread from my mouth down the rest of my body as I pressed him against the wall and began exploring his mouth again in earnest. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to _make_ it to his house; especially not after he moaned when my leg pressed against his growing erection.

I shuddered—holy _fuck_ that was hot. How could I get him to make that sound again? While sucking on his tongue I began moving my knee experimentally, assessing what motions made his breath hitch and tighten the grip he had on the back of my shirt. Eventually I stopped kissing him altogether, instead pulling back to watch his expression change. His face was screwed up, almost like he was in pain—but the way he was pressing his head back as he let out some breathless moans spoke volumes to the contrary. A few minutes in I slipped my hand in-between my knee and his crotch. There was only so fast I could move my leg, and I had gotten much more practiced at moving my hand hard and fast over the past few days. He seemed to like it, because he gasped and bent his head forward so his head was pressed against my shoulder. “Uhhh, _Gary_ , fuckkk…” Holy _Christ_ he’d said that just the way I imagined him saying it! The pop rocks went _wild_ at that, pulsing in a wave that reverberated over my whole body.

I wanted to be able to keep hearing him, but I also wanted to taste him again.... I turned my head to purr “Say that again” in his ear before settling for licking the expanse of his neck he had exposed. As I ran my tongue along his throat, I was delighted to find that I could _feel_ the results of my handiwork in the form of swallowing, and tiny exhales that would’ve been lost otherwise, and how he clenched his jaw slightly when I began lapping at it. Sadly, it seemed he hadn’t heard my request. So I reached down and pulled his shorts and boxers down, leaving nothing between him and my hand. As I did so, I said again “Please, _Petey_ … for me?” I shivered a little at that—saying his name felt almost as good as hearing him say mine.

I paused for a moment to coat the palm of my hand in saliva (I would never make _that_ mistake again). While I did so, Petey caught his breath a little and replied in-between pants “Huh? What?” I smirked into his neck—knowing that _I_ was able to do this to him was making me so fucking hard. Speaking of which, I began running my hand over his hard-on. Heh, it felt almost like when I did it to myself, just at a different angle. At that, though, he paradoxically seemed to wake up. “Whoa, um, hey, whoa!” He straightened his head and yanked his shorts back up, whispering “Come on man, not here!”

I frowned in disapproval as he pushed me back and wriggled away, the fizzing dying down again as I whined “What? Why _not_?” What was his problem? Even as he moved away I could see the massive bulge in his shorts. Licking my lips, I forced myself to look up at his expression.

He had stepped back, his face turned away as he slid over on the wall. Bringing up a hand to rub his arm, he said quietly “Look, I… I don’t know if I wanna go that far.” Before looking up at me with a worried expression.

The next few moments were filled with the sound of our heavy breathing, the turning of the fans in the tunnel, and the distant sounds of the carnival. Apparently, I was supposed to respond. I straightened up, scanning Petey up and down, kicking my brain as best I could in an effort to remember what he’d just said. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to formulate a response. “What does that _mean_ exactly?” Petey’s expression shifted to confusion before quickly transitioning to realization. Well, that was an improvement, at least.

He shuffled his feet before saying “Before I answer, can you tell me how much experience you’ve had with, uh, sex before?”

The understanding Petey from my fantasies whispered in my brain, but now I was terrified that he wouldn’t live up to what I’d pictured. Still, though—if he’d wanted to screw me over, he could have easily done so by now. I crossed my arms, giving him a patronizing look. “I had my first kiss, I don’t know, a few minutes ago. So not much.” To my relief, Petey simply nodded.

“Okay, then I think I should explain some things before we do anything else.” Pushing off the wall, he gave a little half-smile as he added “Sound good?” I shrugged; it seemed like I didn’t really have any other choice. He smiled anyway as I followed, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, Gary finally got past his stupid 'will-he-won't-he' phase! Remember to write Jimmy and Zoe a thank-you note. (he will not)
> 
> In other news, I believe I have a firm grasp on how long this story's going to be--probably about nine chapters? Eight is looking more likely, but I'll see how things shape as I edit.
> 
> Now, I know what you're thinking: but what could possibly go wrong now that the OTP is together!?  
> Well, stay tuned for next week's exciting episode of 'teenagers are idiots'!  
> Gooood night everybody!


	4. Chapter 4

I breathed a sigh of relief as the door to my room clicked shut. That had certainly been an enjoyable meal, but—my chest suddenly hit the door and hands ran over my sides as Gary growled in my ear, “ _Finally_ , I thought that would never fucking _end_ ” as his tongue made its way all over my neck. I shivered a little at the sensation; I’d had some sex before, but only Lola had ever really been as forward as Gary was being—and where Lola had other ways to get her fix… Gary didn’t. I shut my eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he moved his hands under my shirt and started… was he counting my ribs? In the meantime, I heard him chuckle darkly and whisper, “You _like_ that, Femme Boy?”

That made me want to groan in annoyance; seriously? Still the insulting nick-name? I managed to turn around so I could grab his hands as I commented, “I don’t much care for the nick-name, no; why do you still call me that?” While I talked, I tugged him over to my bed.

I had _not_ been prepared for this—some bile rose in my throat as I recalled the parallels from where I tricked him into taking his medication. Still, it was a relief to know that he wasn’t trying to commit suicide; I’ve never see him actually do something like that, but there was something in his expression lately that reminded me of the hopelessness in his eyes from the loop where he got put in Happy Volts early.

Of course, then he’d kissed me. Which, uh. Wasn’t what I’d expected. Honestly it was such a shock I was still reeling a bit. Still, as I watched his slightly dazed expression while we moved through the darkened room, I certainly wasn’t complaining. I smirked a little to myself as I snapped on a lamp by my bed—who knew all it took to get Gary to look confused was tolerate a little groping?

He recovered pretty fast, though. As I put my hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him to sit on the bed, he snickered. “Aw, what, don’t like your pet-name, Petey?” I snorted, rolling my eyes. _Pet_ name? Since when was _that_ a pet name?

I shook my head—we could talk about that later. “So our conversation kinda got cut short.” I was surprised to find myself straddling him as we sat on the bed; if I’d had to guess, I’d have pegged (cue snickering from Jimmy here) Gary as on-the-top kind of person. But it felt natural, and he didn’t object, so it was probably fine.

There was a large part of me that was deeply amused to see him so distracted—usually he’s so focused and controlled. So, getting to watch him practically salivate was kind of hilarious. Absently he said, “Mm, I suppose that’s true…” and started slipping his hands under my shirt and tracing patterns on my abdomen. I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands, so I draped my arms over Gary’s shoulders as he occupied himself with feeling me up.

For a few quiet moments, I just closed my eyes and let myself feel the hands running over me. It had been a while since anybody had touched me like this; I’d forgotten how nice it is. Then, taking a deep breath, I said, “Yeah, about the ‘consent’ thing?” I opened my eyes again, checking to see if Gary was paying attention. This is important stuff, after all. He nodded, but didn’t seem interested in what I was saying, since he was too busy frowning at the shirt I was wearing. Natch. Rolling my eyes and removing one arm from his shoulder, I snapped my fingers in front of his face a couple of times. “Hellooo? Earth to Gary? This shit’s kinda important, man.” Couldn’t keep the amused smile off my face, though—this is seriously comedy gold.

He blinked and looked up at me in mild surprise before sighing dramatically and ceasing the groping, crossing his arms and falling back on the bed. “All right, all right, _fine_.” He smirked, adding a snide, “What would your royal Femme-ness like to discuss?” That gave me pause. …Royal Femme-ness?

I gave a little laugh as I settled in, supporting my weight on my hands. “First of all, that’s really not your best work, Gary. You _clearly_ should have said ‘ **her** royal Femme-ness’.” I grinned cheekily when he scowled at me. Looking down at his already considerable erection, I took on a more serious tone and continued “And now that you actually know what consent is… do you know what I mean when I say I don’t know if I want to go that far?” As far as I’m concerned, Gary’s still an enigma. Hell, I’d known the guy for fifteen years and hadn’t ever considered the idea that he was interested in me romantically. So the last thing I wanted was any kind of confusion or vagueness. That would almost certainly come back to bite somebody (probably me) in the ass.

Gary frowned, thinking for a few moments before he uncrossed his arms and propped himself up. His head was a little below mine, since we’re nearly the same height now, but it worked well enough. Cocking his head to one side, he gave his signature ‘scan’ of my face before saying slowly “You… _don’t_ want me to give you a…” He raised an eyebrow. “Handjob, right?” I sighed, nodding. I know it’s silly, that most guys ‘my age’ (and even a lot of guys my _actual_ age) would be happy for the opportunity to get off, but there was… there was a lot to process about this whole ordeal. I didn’t want to rush into this unprepared—for fuck’s sake, it’s _Gary_ ; I’m not about to just throw the friendship I’d worked so hard to build under the bus. Besides, I figure if all else failed, years down the line we could write this off as teenagers messing around if it didn’t get too serious. He let out a huff, lifting one hand to run over my shirt, pausing when he reached a nipple. “And does that mean you don’t want to give _me_ a handjob, either?” I felt kind of bad that I was putting such a damper on his first ever sexual encounter. I still nodded, though; if I didn’t tell him what I wanted, that’d be pretty douchey. His eyes narrowed a little, and he returned to fondling my nipples with a thoughtful “Hm.”

I waited a few seconds, but it didn’t seem like he was going to elaborate. “So… is that okay?”

After I asked, he stopped his tweaking and looked me straight in the eye. “So what you’re saying is anything with fewer than two layers of cloth between a penis and the other party’s hand is a no-go?”

I blinked rapidly at that—as always, Gary managed to say something I hadn’t expected. “Umm…” I gave it some thought, checking his expression for mal-intent. Didn’t seem like it; not that _that_ says much. “Yeah, that sounds about right, I guess.”

Gary nodded, expression still neutral as he pulled himself so he was sitting more fully on the bed. “Well, that still leaves us _plenty_ of options, doesn’t it?” As he talked, he pulled my arm with him, and then walked his fingers up the arm to my shoulder, smirk growing all the while.

I let out a mental breath—good, he was looking at it positively. Hardly a given for Gary. I was a little surprised at the sultry look he was gazing at me with, and how I actually kinda _liked_ it. I’ve never really found other guys attractive before—sure, I’ve masturbated to _thoughts_ of gay sex, but that’s more about understanding the anatomy better rather than any desire to actually get with another guy. Or maybe not—maybe I’ve always been into guys, and I’ve just never been able to act on that; or maybe it’s because Gary’s my friend that this is all so enjoyable? Licking my lips, I tilted my head in a nod as I commented, “True, true…” Impulsively, I reached behind my head to grasp at the hem of my shirt. While I talked, I pulled the shirt over my head. “Did you have some ideas, or…” When I was able to re-establish eye-contact with Gary, his expression reminded me of those old cartoons where a cat licks its chops as it looks at a bird or a mouse and its head fades into a tiny roast chicken. I added quietly, “…do you wanna follow _my_ lead?”

I swallowed as I folded the shirt. I felt a little… giddy without the small amount of protection offered by my clothing. As I shifted to set it down, my shorts and underwear felt a little tighter than they had earlier. Gary eagerly started running his hands up and down my bare chest, laughing breathlessly. “Ha, ‘some ideas’ is a bit of an understatement, Petey.” I lowered myself a little—he wasn’t being all that shy, which was in pretty stark contrast to when I got to first base the first time. Even so, it didn’t seem like he really knew what felt good. He was experimenting wildly; one pass of his hand was feather-light, and another was tapping a bizarre rhythm that I’m sure made sense to him.

I flinched when he suddenly started pressing into my skin **really** hard for some reason. “Ow! Not that hard....” He pulled his hand back from my ribcage, pausing before he brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers before using the wet digits to trace some sort of pattern on my chest. My heart suddenly started racing, and I let out a breathy, “Oh—yeah, that’s... good” as he continued. I closed my eyes, letting the soothing sensation of hands tracing lines on my chest wash over me—man the way the touches lingered with his saliva…

Gary whispered, “You like that, Petey?” One of the hands retreated as I nodded, half-opening my eyes as my breath shortened further. I saw him slather his tongue all over his hand before he shifted me forward and resumed rubbing my chest. “I’ve been thinking about you almost non-stop these past few days, you know.” I leaned forward, tired of supporting my own weight, instead resting my forehead on Gary’s. He hardly seemed to notice, simply taking the opportunity to start lapping at more of my skin. In between licks, he continued, almost to himself. “How it would feel to touch you…” He lowered his head and was dragging his tongue all over my chest now and, while weird, the sensation was oddly pleasant. “…how you’d touch _me_ …”  I shifted so my legs were on Gary’s either side, and I was actually sitting down. That put my face closer to his, and he suddenly wrapped his (still saliva-slicked) hands around my shoulders and waist to pull me closer and kiss me with the same hunger that he’d had before. But I got distracted by the movement to get me closer to him, which had rubbed our erections together and wooow that felt _great_! I moaned into Gary’s mouth, tightening my grip on his body as I moved to try and replicate the friction.

But as I tried to shift my hips forward, his entire body shuddered and curled in on itself, his mouth separating from mine as he bent his head and let out a weirdly animalistic sound. Oh crap, did something happen? “Shit, are you okay? Are you hur—” but then something was rubbing my dick through my shorts and the rest of my sentence was lost because, I mean, a hand other than my own on my dick was, erm, still a novel experience. “—urrrt oooh _h **h**_ …”

A few moments later though, it lightened considerably, and Gary said hoarsely “Pete. I need you to do something for me.” We were both panting—though I wasn’t sure why he was so breathless. I nodded anyway; I wanted more friction, but I was actually more curious about what Gary’s deal was. He smiled toothily at my nod. “Perfect. Petey…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before seeming to force himself to speak. “I… need you to say my name the same way you did earlier, in the tunnel.”

I blinked. Back in the tunnel? Gary was looking at me neutrally as he rubbed me very gently—keeping me hard, but not enough to really work me up. I tilted my head, trying to think of what I’d said earlier. It was kinda blurry, though. I said slowly, “I don’t think I remember that exactly… but I can give it a try?” His eyes narrowed at that—apparently that wasn’t the correct answer.

He shrugged, saying, “Let’s hear it, then.” And he shot me such a superior look that it just made me laugh. It’s just like Gary to _challenge_ somebody, even during sex! “Something _funny_ , Femme Boy?” He was glaring, now. Naturally.

I rolled my eyes as I shifted my hips, trying to increase the pressure. “Yeah, _you_ , duh; mmmmm…” Suddenly, he started shifting his hand so that I couldn’t get any friction. “Hey!” I wined and rolled my eyes. “Come _on_ Gary, that was a _compliment_?”

He shrugged as he moved away. “A shame I don’t _feel_ complimented, then.” I blinked, then bit my lip trying to avoid laughing at his pissy expression.

I looked down at my erection to distract myself. Hm… well, another time then. I turned around and slid off the bed—should probably brush my teeth and stuff before going to sleep. “Okay, okay, sorry; I didn’t mean to ‘ _offend_ ’ you.” As I moved toward the door, I added, “You can use my toothbrush if you want, by the way, it’s cool.” But when I turned back to him, he looked horrified for some reason. “…What?”

He uncrossed his arms and started gesticulating wildly as he stammered incoherently for a few seconds before finally saying, “Y-you can’t just _leave_!” while gesturing to his own erection. He started crawling toward the end of the bed, closer to where I was standing by the door. “Petey, _please_ …” The desperation in his voice was, frankly, more than a little disturbing.

I bit my lip before looking askance and saying, “Look, I don’t really know what you want me to do, exactly.” His face screwed up in confused desperation for a couple seconds before I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, explaining this stuff can be kind of hard.” I shrugged, giving him a smile. “And hey, if I did it once I’ll probably do it again—then you can point it out, right?” That stopped the weirdly helpless expression, at least. Eventually he nodded, and I allowed myself a relieved breath. Now that I don’t know outcomes directly, interacting with Gary requires even more of those patented mental back-bends I had developed over the years. “All right, so do you wanna brush your teeth and stuff first, or…” He gave me a long look before shaking his head, shifting back to lie down with his hands behind his head. I rolled my eyes, but smiled despite myself as I left the room. That was a ‘plottin’ stuff’ face if I ever saw one. Hm… so… did I want to let him sleep on my bed and I sleep on the floor, or should he take the guest room? Gary probably wouldn’t want to sleep in the same bed as me—he doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘cuddly’ type.

Finally done, I returned to my room to find somebody rooting around in my closet. From the depths of the clothes, I heard a muffled, “Hey Femme Boy, what’s…” and his head poked out, along with something in his hand. “… _this_ thing?”

I scoffed as I rolled my eyes and pulled the door closed. “No, that’s fine Gary! You’re welcome to dig around in my personal junk. Really, don’t worry about it.”

His eyes narrowed, but he replied without missing a beat. “Why thank you Petey. Now, what the hell is this?” I finally focused on the thing in his hand, and I felt myself break into a grin.

“Oh man, those’re my old Sonic PJs!” I walked over to him, taking the soft shirt and pants, drinking in the familiar patterns of my childhood. “Haha, wow, I haven’t seen these in _years_.” Knuckles, Sonic, Tails, and the Chaos Emeralds were printed on the old flannel pants—I’d been pretty disappointed when I unwrapped them (Christmas and all), but I still wore them practically every night for years before I outgrew them.

Gary, meanwhile, was peering down at them with the air of somebody trying to decipher a foreign language. “Sonic? What, that old video game?” That made me laugh.

“Old? Dude, they still make Sonic games! Unfortunately…” I glared at nothing in particular for a couple seconds, thinking about one scene in particular _which shall not be named_ from the game my parents had got me over the loop for Christmas. Shaking my head, I took the hanger for the clothing in his hand and gave Gary a grin. “Trust me, man—don’t get me _started_ on the Sonic franchise. I _will_ talk your ear off.”

As I was occupied putting the hanger back in the closet, I felt arms wrap around my waist as he hugged him from behind. I still wasn’t wearing a shirt, so the warmth from his body was undeniably pleasant. He whispered, “Aw, you’re welcome to talk, Petey” as he nosed my hair. I felt kind of frozen as Gary’s arms tightened a little and he muttered, “mm you smell nice.”

I felt like if I moved, that would break this weird spell of quiet that had overtaken the room. I whispered when I responded. “Uh… thanks?” Eventually, I leaned forward a little, managing to return it the closet. I shut the door too, but by then he had plastered himself even closer to my body, and I wasn’t sure how he’d respond to moving somewhere else. I did kind of want to go to sleep at some point; it had been a _loooong_ day. “Hey, um… so do you wanna sleep in the guest room, or in my bed and I sleep on the floor, or?…”

At that, Gary started actually dragging us backward. “How about we both sleep on the bed? Isn’t that how these things work?” At that point he started trailing his mouth over my neck, and I just let myself be moved.

“Sure, if you wanna, I guess that’s cool.” I yawned as Gary moved us, which prompted him to spin me around and start making out with me again. Well okay, I guess. The angle was a little awkward, so we ended up kind of crashing into the bed and falling down. I laughed as he rolled on top of me and pressed himself as close to me as he could, now experimenting with sucking on my neck. “Geez, man—aren’t you tired? You look like you haven’t slept in, like, two days or something.”

I felt Gary snort before sitting up and adjusting himself so he was more comfortable. He sure looked comfortable—the superior smirk and the higher position suited his condescending tone when he said, “Puh-lease, Femme Boy—two days is _nothing_.” He began running his hands over my chest again, which appeared to take up all his concentration since he stopped talking.

I sighed as I scooted back a bit to get the light. “Do you _really_ still need to call me that?” Gary crawled with me as I turned over to snap my bedside lamp off. I added to myself, “I swear, it’s like you use it even _more_ these days.”

There were a few minutes of quiet as I just let Gary trail his hands up and down my torso in the dark. I haven’t had sex much—it’s only been five or so times, since there’re just two girls who’d ever expressed an interest in me. And neither girl with had really… touched me like this. Well, they _had_. But not really afterward; it was kinda nice to be touched ‘anyway’, rather than ‘for the purpose of’. Gary suddenly broke the silence as he said quietly, “What, you don’t think it’s accurate?” He then moved off of me, lying down next to me and hugging my arm. Guess I was wrong about him not liking cuddling.

I frowned as he nuzzled himself into my neck and hair. “No, it’s not; I’m not a girl.” He chuckled and shifted his leg so it was pressed against my crotch.

He positively _purred_ , “Oh, I _know_ you’re not a girl, Petey” before shifting his arms to wrap more fully around my body. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have traits normally associated with girls, though.”

I snorted, muttering, “Yeah, like forgetting a red sock in the wash once.” In response, I felt Gary frown.

“No… it’s more than surface stuff like that…” He pulled away and began running a hand through my hair as he continued. “…You try and empathize with other people… you’re patient… you ask questions before rushing in…” he trailed off before removing his hand and moving back in to lap at my neck and smirk. “Not to mention your skin is _wonderfully_ soft.”

I rolled my eyes, whispering back, “Oh _sorry_ if I didn’t see it as a compliment with the way you say it.”

I let the sound of crickets from outside wash over me as he muttered, “Mmm… maybe I can _make_ it a compliment” before pressing the side of his head into my shoulder.

By that point, though, I was drifting off and I wasn’t even sure I’d heard anything. I murmured back, “Sure, man… you do that…” before giving in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit, Sonic the Hedgehog pajamas with characters other than Sonic is probably pushing the realm of plausibility. But that would mean no Tails.
> 
> And I like Tails.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mildly questionable consent that’s resolved pretty quickly.

I knew it’d been a mistake as soon as I’d said it. It was a few weeks or so into Pete and I being… an item, I suppose, and we were hanging out with Mr. and Mrs. Moron as per usual in another one of Jimmy’s inexplicable hideouts. We had just been making idle conversation and gossip for a few hours, and at some point we had somehow got on the subject of age. Zoe had said something about Burton. “Fucker used to slap me on the ass” were her exact words, I believe.

I’d shifted so I was nuzzled into Petey’s neck—God, that contact still lit my nerves on fire—and said, “Heh, guess you can call me hot for teacher, then.”

Usually Petey would just shiver and laugh, maybe gently push me away in public, or during a conversation. Not that we’d been having a lot of those in private lately. I should’ve realized something was off when his only reaction had been a few moments of silence followed by a worried-sounding, “…what do you mean?”

I pulled back a little, automatically clarifying myself. “Well, you and Burton are the same age, aren’t you?” Instantly Petey flinched like he’d been doused in ice-cold water, and he turned to me with an expression of fast-escalating horror. I quickly added, “I mean, technically. Not _really_.” I hooked my arm around his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. He softened up automatically, but my stomach still had a cold lump of dread in it.

My suspicions were confirmed as I pulled away and gave Pete my best reassuring smile only for him to frown. “Well. Technically I _am_ Burton’s age. He’s, like, thirty-something, right?”

Zoe piped up, adding, “Forties. Dude’s pushing forty-eight, I think.”

I let out a breath. “See, Femme Boy? Nothing to worry about.” Come on, please drop it!

Luckily, Petey seemed to hear my plea, since he just said, “Yeah…” and nothing more. Thank God. I wound my arm around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder. All I knew was that I wanted to keep exploring these incredible feelings. Besides, why would Petey want to stop? He enjoys this stuff too; maybe not as much as I do… but he still likes it. I smirked to myself—hell, if it was really a problem, I had been thinking about going down on him for a few days now; perhaps that would alleviate any worries he had.

As night began to fall and the great moron duo decided to kick us out, I began wandering my way toward Petey’s house, making idle chit-chat. “So, what would you say to my tongue on your balls, hm?” Well, maybe not so idle.

“Wait, we can’t go to my house—my parents asked me not to tonight, they’re having guests…”

Shit. “And you didn’t say this earlier because?…”

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I forgot! Sorry. We can just go to your house, though, right?” Fuck. I didn’t say anything for a moment, mulling over my options. I did _not_ want Petey in my house; it is a place of fucking misery and I didn’t want him anywhere near it. But I couldn’t think of anywhere else we could go at this time of night and be alone. …Unless…

“What about that room under the comic shop?” His face scrunched up as he thought and God help me it set the butterflies that constantly dogged my stomach these days fluttering like crazy.

After a moment, he said, “Would they let us in? I mean, I know the guy behind the counter knows we’re Jimmy’s friends… but is that enough?” I shrugged. Who knows?

“Might as well find out, hm, Femme Boy?” He rolled his eyes at the nick-name. I’ve been using it so often this past week that it sounded much more like a term of endearment at this point. At least, that was the idea. Either way, he nodded and we headed over to the comic shop. Petey said some stupidly nice thing to that idiot Zack, but eventually we were able to head to the basement and shut the door to the side room.

I groaned as soon as the door snapped shut, quickly pulling him into a kiss. “Finally! Geez, why’s it always take so damn long?” The tingling feeling spread over my body like wildfire, and I grinned as I licked his lips, silently asking him for entrance. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as accommodating as usual.

He pulled away, saying quietly, “No, Gary, not now… we gotta talk.” I haven’t ever been in a romantic relationship, but I’ve heard that phrase enough times in movies and TV shows for it to trigger the return of that pit in my stomach.

I ignored it, though, pulling him over to the bed (which was really more of a glorified mattress) as I said, “Make out now, talk later, ‘kay, Petey?” I grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and muffling whatever he was saying.

When the shirt cleared his head, he said in a rather frustrated tone, “Gary, no! We gotta talk _now_.”

Shit, shit, _shit_ … I straddled him, ignoring what he said and tracing patterns over his neck with the tip of my tongue—he loves that. In between laps, I said, “Hmm… are you… sure about… that?” He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as I slowed down and got into the rhythm of things. I smirked, moving my mouth to suck on his collarbone as I stealthily undid his shorts. Taking a break in the stimulation I murmured in his ear, “you never did say anything about your cock in my mouth…” before planting my mouth over his again. I ran my hands over his boxers, too—he was getting hard; good thing, I’d been sporting a hard-on since the door clicked shut.

As I slipped my hand into his underwear, though, he reached down and pulled it out. He separated from my mouth, saying breathlessly, “No Gary, come on—we _gotta_ talk, okay?” No, no, _no, **no**!_ I tugged the band of his boxers down with my other hand and stroked him; he gasped. Perfect—I started lapping at his chest. But he inched back until I couldn’t touch him. “Gary, cut it o—” I shoved him back, laying down on top of him and licking the inside of his mouth as desperately as I could. Please, _please_ just let it go! That seemed to make him more pissed off, and he started wriggling out from under me and shoving me away. “Gary, for _fuck’s_ sake! Get off me!”

I grabbed both his wrists and pinned them to his side as I straddled him. “Fine. You wanna talk, then talk.” I breathed heavily for a few moments as he attempted to free himself before staring me in the eye.

“Let me go.” I shrugged, dragging his hands up so they were above his head.

Quietly, I asked “Why?” as I kissed him less fiercely. I’d lost, I knew that much. By now, he’d clamped his teeth firmly together and I couldn’t get past them. I sighed, tightening my grip on his wrists as I laid my head down next to his. “…fine. What did you want to say.”

He huffed. “Geez, you’re acting like you know already.” I shrugged as I pressed myself closer to him, breathing in. The look of horror on his face from earlier today was at the forefront of my mind; but hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was something completely different. Stranger things had happened—like him liking me back. As Petey sighed and prepared to speak, though, I really doubted it. “Look… I was just thinking… about how old I am? Technically, you know?”

I sighed; no such luck of being wrong, apparently. “Mmhm.” I started nosing his hair—man, it’s been getting so long.

He didn’t say anything for a moment before continuing. “Well… I just think… well, I’m really thirty. And. Um. You only just turned fifteen…”

I pushed myself up and sat up so I was straddling him. “When were you born, Femme Boy?”

He blinked, frowning as he answered automatically, “Uh, August 25th?”

I rolled my eyes. “What _year_?”

“Oh. 1992… but—”

I dipped my head back down and interrupted him with a kiss before pulling back and saying quietly, “Then you’re fifteen too, right?” As I did so, I began rubbing my erection over his crotch; I exhaled sharply. Hot _damn_ that felt good.

Petey agreed, since he bucked his hips into the heat a little himself. After a moment he said, “I-I mean, technically I am–” I reached down and tugged his boxers off while he spoke and propped himself up on his hands. “–But age isn’t really about physical _age_ , it’s…” Then I bent down and began trailing my nose (and tongue) down his chest. “–about… experienceee… ohh…”

I took the opportunity get my own two cents in. “Come on, Petey—anybody would agree that you’re fifteen, right?” I reached his erection and flicked my gaze up to meet his as I moved my face so I could trace his dick with my nose. He moaned, closing his eyes and doing this little wiggle of pleasure. Hot! And that was perfect; a horny Petey is a quiet Petey. Or not talkative, at least. I licked my lips and dragged my lower lip up his length as I continued speaking—quietly now—“Come _on_ , I just want to make you feel good~” Then I darted my tongue out to touch his tip. I had no idea what I was doing, but I’d actually asked Jimmy for, well, some advice. He’d enthusiastically begun listing various acts—tugging, stroking, licking, and vibrating had all been in there. I brought up the various terms he’d used throughout the lecture as I slowly slid my tongue over Petey—hm. Probably best to keep it simple for a while.

I started by lapping at the base and working my way up. I’d honestly been a little surprised by how well-endowed Femme Boy is. I was especially grateful for the added length as I added a pumping hand to the mix and slipped his tip into my mouth, nearly moaning myself at the sounds Petey was treating me to. “G-Gary, wait… jus–ohGod~!” His hands came up to grip the back of my head—to my surprise, it turned me on. A _lot_. I kept pumping with my hand, but slathered my tongue up and down the shaft; to my delight he groaned and began bending forward with his face screwed up. Oh, he liked this. I would’ve smirked, but I was too busy taking him in more. His grip on my hair tightened as I was able to take him in deeper. I was surprised to find how hard I was getting at having a dick in my mouth… what would happen if I could take him all the way? But before I could consider it more, he began tugging my hair like he wanted to pull me off. “Stop it! Gary, _please_ , stop…” I looked up at him and he looked… scared. Really scared.

I frowned, pulling back reluctantly. As soon as I did, he skootched away, breathing heavily. “…what? Did that hurt, or something?”

He shook his head as he pulled his boxers back up. He curled up, away from me as he panted. “No, no, I’m fine… I just… you didn’t let me talk.” He kept his gaze trained on the fastening for his shorts as he began talking like he wouldn’t get the chance to continue. “Gary, I’m so sorry but I just don’t think I can do this.” Pulling his knees in, Petey refused to look at me as he continued. “And I _know_ that you’re probably upset… but… but you’re a _child_ , you can’t make these decisions for yourself yet.”

What!? “I can’t make my own decisions? Since fucking when!?”

He sighed, his eyes still closed as he said calmly, “Because you’re not old enough. You haven’t even been in a romantic relationship before, you’re… it’s just not okay for me to be with you, okay?” I could feel my stomach curling in on itself. I had only just figured out I could even _be_ attracted to anybody, and now he didn’t… he didn’t want me anymore? The fucker still wouldn’t look at me!

I licked my lips as I said hoarsely, “But… but it’s _fine_! You’re not going to get any trouble, nobody would even know unless you told them!” I started crawling toward him “Please, Petey… look at me…” I touched his arm, and he actually listened to me, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as he sighed. I began pulling him into a hug but he pulled away.

“Gary, it’s not about getting in trouble, or what other people think, it’s just what I think is right, okay?” I frowned. What the hell was he even talking about? He continued “This is just what we were talking about… the consent thing.”

I could not believe what I was hearing! “I-I want you! What the h—are you saying _I’m_ raping you??”

He started waving his hands in denial immediately. “No, no, no! I mean… just. Look, in order to give consent, you have to be able to.” He rubbed the back of his head as I shifted closer to him and started rubbing a circle on his back. “And if you’re too young, you can’t, _by law_ , give consent. Like, if a person is mentally handicapped or…” I shrugged as he petered out again, and he even let me wrap my arm around him before abruptly turning and shifting away again.

I huffed—Christ, this was annoying—but I took offense to that. “What, so just because I’m young means I’m as stupid as somebody who’s drunk or high?”

Pete grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like _that_ , geez Gary!”

Icily, I responded, “Well, you’re comparing my ability to say that I want to have sex with you to that of somebody who’s ingested a bottle of whisky. I don’t see—” But he cut me off.

“I am not talking semantics with you, Gary. This is wrong, and you can’t change my mind about it. End of story.” There was a minute of silence during which the horror of the situation that I’d managed to keep bottled up suddenly began to seep out. I was surprised by how painful it felt—the rejection. I’ve always thought of myself as more of a cold calculator who doesn’t let emotion get in the way of things, but as the reality of feeling my chest compress like it was in a vice hit me it rather called that fact into question. “…Gary? Gary, are you okay?” I tried to take deep breaths, but I was having some trouble breathing. I blinked—was I _crying_? I lifted a hand up to my eyes, but they were perfectly dry. For some reason, that made me feel even worse, and I felt my breathing get sharper. “Shhh; hey, it’s okay, come on…” I felt warm arms pull me into a hug and suddenly all that fear and pain turned to an emotion I was far more familiar with: anger.

I shoved Petey away as violently as I could, screaming at the top of my lungs—this was _his fault_! “FUCK YOU!” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I just balled my hair up in my hands and yelled into the cage of my arms. “AAAAAAHHH!” I felt him touch me again, but I slapped him away and screamed “GET OUT! YOU LITTLE FUCK!” He was backing away from me like I was a wild animal now. “YOU LEAD ME ON, THEN JUST FUCK ME OVER? **GET OUT!** GET OUT GETOUT _GETOUTGETTHEFUCKOUT_!” I beat my fists on the door after he scrambled out, screaming until I could barely breathe anymore—so I grabbed the first thing I could and threw it. The keyboard made an unsatisfying clunk, so I picked it up and hurled it again, and again, and again until finally a few keys flew off and pinged against the walls and the floor. I breathed heavily for a moment before feeling a lump catch in my throat and snarling to myself as I threw the piece of machinery against the ground as hard as I could and stomped on it until I heard a CRUNCH that indicated it’d been broken. That made me stop, catch my breath again as I stumbled to the mattress on the floor.

I focused on the all-consuming numbing feeling that was overtaking my senses rather than think about how I was never going to see Petey again or touch him again or see his smug, cocky expression when he beat me in Streetfighter or concentrate so hard to feel his heartbeat through my chest until it was like my own heartbeat ceased to be and he was part of me or kiss him in front of his parents or being pushed to the brink of physical pleasure and maybe even sanity and then past it but it was always okay because he was right there with me and I could count on him to bring me back from the terrifying thoughts those moments brought on like ‘I love him’ and ‘I need him’ and he would just smile that FUCKING smile and the whole world was okay or… or…

That was when the gross sobbing began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny thing about this chapter is that I had actually forgotten that Pete actually has, you know, thirty years worth of memories myself. Whoopsie diddily noodle
> 
> As always, leave your constructive and destructive feedback below!


End file.
